Chapter 26: Promises and Comfort

My throat tightened, emotions welling up.

“Why would I hate you? I’m…”

I stopped, shocked at myself. I nearly blurted out that I’m not Father’s child either. What a mess of a family. I used to think secret origins were cliché, but living it felt so jarringly real I could go mad. Collecting myself, I patted Do Yoon and said.

“Anyway, it won’t happen. We didn’t do anything wrong.”

I slipped and said “we,” but Do Yoon, lost in tears, didn’t notice. After a while, the shaking blanket in my arms calmed.

I pitied him. Even if Seung Hyun was mostly in the States, Do Yoon must’ve endured harsh words whenever they crossed paths. Yet, this fragile boy crumbled at the slightest kindness.

In typical stories, a protagonist like him would’ve at least had a loving mother. But Do Yoon’s case was worse—caring for a mother with bipolar disorder and self-harm tendencies by his teens.

Stroking his brown hair peeking from the blanket, I said.

“I won’t hate you. I can’t promise much, but I promise that.”

I felt him freeze slightly. In a low, lullaby-like voice, I continued.

“The ones who did wrong are out there. We just live well—that’s real revenge. You’re smart, you can do anything.”

He stayed silent, but I knew he was listening intently. I kept murmuring softly.

“You’ll go to a great college, make lots of friends, earn everyone’s respect, find someone you love, have two kids, vacation at summer and winter homes abroad… You’ll be so happy. You’ll have more money than you can spend in a lifetime, and no one will ever hurt you.”

Of course, that hinges on him meeting the heroine, Bae Ji An. But that’s inevitable, so no worries. Fated meetings happen—like Hyung Joo proved recently.

Still… does future happiness justify present suffering? Should a child grow up without the love and protection they deserve just because success is “guaranteed”?

The novel’s Director Choi Do Yoon was a flawless high-spec man. But now, I wished he could be happy even without that title.

Soon, Do Yoon’s puffy face popped out like a mole from the blanket. He jerked his head up, nearly hitting my chin. His tear-soaked brown eyes sparkled like glass beads, red but less burdened than before. Wrapped in the blanket, he looked like a giant swaddled cat. He stared at me with a hardened expression, then said.

“You really won’t hate me? Ever?”

His blunt, innocent question made me chuckle. I tweaked his nose playfully and let go.

“Nah, I hate you now. You got ugly, Choi Do Yoon.”

His calmed face flushed instantly. He thrashed in my arms, and I grabbed the squirming blanket bundle with arms and legs. He shouted.

“It’s hot!”

“Got it, ugly.”

“No…!”

“What’s no? You actually have ugly days. Wild.”

His red face tried to roll away, but the bed was too small, and I wasn’t letting go. We tussled on the narrow bed, kicking up dust. After minutes of battle, the blanket flew off, and Do Yoon ended up straddling my stomach, hands by my ears, glaring down. His breathing was ragged from the fight.

“Huff, I said, it’s not true!”

“What’s not?”

I teased smugly. Fuming, he glared with fiery eyes, panting. I stared back, then burst out laughing.

“Choi Do Yoon, kiddo, did ‘ugly’ hit you that hard? Come on, no one’s perfect every day. Gotta have some human charm.”

“No way!”

“You keep saying ‘no.’”

“This…!”

He glared, frustrated but clueless about what to do next—like a gamer who won a fight but found no reward. I kept teasing, but even from below, the main character’s face was flawless, no hint of humiliation. Ridiculous perfection.

I wrapped my arms around his waist. He stiffened instantly. Seizing the moment, I tickled him mercilessly.

“Attack!”

“Ah, no, stop, ah! Ack, hahaha, stop!”

His balance collapsed. I flipped us, laying him beside me, pinning him with one leg over his waist. He resisted fiercely—if he were any bigger, I’d lose. Good thing I could still flex my hyung authority.

Panting, his face blood-red, Do Yoon lay subdued. Pleased with my victory, I pinched his cheek lightly. Forcing a laugh lightened the mood.

“Don’t hate me later either.”

His brown eyes widened, confused by the sudden remark.

Embarrassed, I cleared my throat. But when else could I say this to the main character so naturally? Do Yoon’s lips moved, indignant.

“I wouldn’t.”

In this moment, sure. But hearts aren’t constant. Even Do Yoon’s attitude toward me shifted. Who knows when it might revert? I’d never hurt him, but imagining a grown Do Yoon sneering at me like a bug sent a chill through my chest.

When I didn’t respond, he hesitated, looking like he might cry again. I quickly ruffled his silky hair.

“Keep that heart, don’t change it.”

I got off the bed, figuring he’d recovered enough for me to leave. But then, he grabbed my sleeve.

“…?”

Turning, I saw his wavering eyes, both pitiful and flustered, like his arm moved before his brain could catch up.

“What?”

He fidgeted, searching for words, eyes darting before dropping. In a tiny voice, he said.

“Can you… stay with me?”

A brief silence hung. Did I hear right?

“You want a hug?”

His face went beyond red to near black, like he might explode. Panicked, he mumbled after a pause.

“Just… an hour…”

Is that something to say so pitifully?

He looked like a wife begging her husband not to leave. I’d planned to review the novel’s relationships and plot in my room, but his face shook me. A thought struck.

Is this Choi Do Yoon’s first time acting spoiled?

That made refusing impossible. After a moment, I climbed back onto his bed, hugging him tightly. I playfully smacked his back.

“Alright, baby, sleep tight.”

“Not a baby…”

Despite his words, he snuggled close. He’d fumed at being called a kid before, but now he took “baby” quietly—cute. I stifled a laugh, not wanting to ruin it. His warm, rhythmic breathing felt like hugging a giant furry animal.

It was just past 8 p.m., too early to sleep. But since I’d told him to, talking felt odd, so I kept patting his back. The problem? I ended up dozing off instead.